


I Like the Sound of That

by surlybobbies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22158811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/pseuds/surlybobbies
Summary: In mid-December, Gabe hangs a sprig of mistletoe in Cas’s foyer.  Cas, resisting the temptation to strangle his brother, snaps a picture and sends it to Dean.Take it down or leave it up?Idk dude. U trying to catch someone under there?Cas hedges.I don’t want to kiss anyone who’d only do it because of a plant.Fair enough. Just leave it up tho. U’ll break an ankle climbing up ur rickety ladder. Dw u don’t have to kiss meCas puts his phone down and doesn’t reply.  He indulges in two glasses of wine and valiantly tries to avoid thinking about kissing Dean.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 232





	I Like the Sound of That

**Author's Note:**

> I'M LATE I KNOW I KNOW
> 
> December was a shitshow for me, but I didn't want to wait until December 2020 to post this, so have some late holiday fluff. If you're still in the holiday mood or if you're missing the holidays, I hope you enjoy this very quick and indulgent fic.

In mid-December, Gabe hangs a sprig of mistletoe in Cas’s foyer. Cas, resisting the temptation to strangle his brother, snaps a picture and sends it to Dean. _Take it down or leave it up?_

__

__

_Idk dude. U trying to catch someone under there?_

Cas hedges. _I don’t want to kiss anyone who’d only do it because of a plant._

_Fair enough. Just leave it up tho. U’ll break an ankle climbing up ur rickety ladder. Dw u don’t have to kiss me_

Cas puts his phone down and doesn’t reply. He indulges in two glasses of wine.

A week later, the front door opens. “Cas, we’re late! Hurry up!”

Cas’s hair isn’t behaving. He opens his bathroom door and shouts down the hallway. “You don’t care what your coworkers think anyway!”

“The good booze will be gone by the time we get there!”

Cas sighs and stares forlornly at his hair in the mirror.

Two minutes later, Cas is buttoning up his shirt and grabbing his keys from his counter. Dean’s on his phone in the foyer, looking unfairly handsome in a maroon sweater and jeans. _His_ hair is perfect. 

Cas approaches and Dean gives him a once-over, his eyes lingering on Cas’s hair. “The bedhead’s a nice touch,” he says, raising his eyebrows. His gaze skates over Cas’s lips, then back up to Cas’s eyes. “Not bad, Cas.”

Cas doesn’t want to spend the whole ride to the party with red cheeks so he tries valiantly to ignore the way Dean’s looking at him. “Thanks,” he says, just to get the conversation over and done with. 

He moves toward the doorway, brushing past Dean, but Dean stops him with a hand to the arm. “Hold on a minute,” Dean says.

Cas turns around. “You were the one rushing me out of the bathroom.”

But Dean just winks and points up toward the ceiling where the mistletoe mocks Cas and his hopeless attraction to his best friend. “Pucker up, buddy,” Dean says, just to hammer it home.

Cas rolls his eyes. “We talked about this. You know I don’t expect you to take that seriously.”

“Who says I’m taking it seriously?” Dean asks. “Kisses don’t have to be serious.” His grin is wide, and Cas is taken in by it like he always is when Dean’s happiness lights up his eyes.

“I really won’t be upset if you decide not to kiss me, Dean,” Cas says, his last defense.

Dean laughs. “Dude, just say you don’t want to kiss me - it’s fine - “ He falters when Cas steps closer, his bravado shuttering.

A tense moment passes. There’s still enough space for either one of them to laugh it off, but then Cas reaches out to touch Dean’s face. He watches for a reaction, for some sign of disgust or hesitation, but all he sees is surprise, a touch of awe, and when he feels Dean’s hand fall lightly to his waist, Cas takes that as a sign to lean forward.

The kiss is short. One lingering touch of the lips. It’s barely anything. It definitely shouldn’t explain the thudding in Cas’s chest or the way Dean draws back and looks at him, intense and dark-eyed and way too serious for apparently not taking it seriously.

Dean swallows audibly. His eyes dip down to Cas’s lips again and this time Cas can’t ignore it, just like he can’t ignore the way Dean hasn’t moved out of Cas’s grip, the way Dean’s hands are iron on his waist. Dean apparently is of the same mind because this time they meet in the middle, and this time, the kiss is anything but short or sweet or innocent.

Cas’s hands bury themselves in the front of Dean’s sweater, fingers deep in the plush wool, trying to haul himself even closer to Dean than he already is. Their lips barely separate as they stumble toward the door, where Dean’s back hits the wood with a soft thud. Cas hears Dean grunt softly in pain, so Cas does all he can think of to soothe the ache: kiss harder, a little filthier. It seems to work because the next sound Dean makes is a satisfied groan.

It occurs to Cas, somewhere in the back of his mind, that they’re no longer under the mistletoe. There is no longer any pretense for what Dean’s tongue is suddenly doing on Cas’s neck. What they’re doing now is no longer part of a stupid tradition, a stupid prank forced on them by Cas’s brother. 

It’s this revelation that makes Cas push himself away from Dean, just a few inches, just enough space to get both of them thinking again. It’s still difficult to think, however, when Dean’s lips are shining and the breaths he’s taking are still harsh and loud against the silence of a house in winter. 

Cas waits until Dean looks at him. “How long have you wanted to do that?” Cas murmurs breathlessly.

Dean’s face is so tender it rends Cas’s heart a little. “Ages,” Dean says, lifting a hand to touch Cas’s face. Cas is astounded to see a soft smile on his face.

“You don’t need an excuse next time,” Cas promises. “If there’s going to be a next time.”

Dean smiles, his eyes bright. “I like the sound of that, Cas.”

Cas presses a kiss to the tender skin under Dean’s eye. He feels Dean’s amused breath on his chin. He lingers. He delivers the next line next to Dean’s ear: “I don’t feel like going to the party.”

The response takes so long Cas thinks Dean must have forgotten about the party altogether. “I like the sound of that, too,” Dean eventually says. His hands are making their way under Cas’s sweater. 

Despite their activities, Dean’s hands are still cold. They make Cas shiver. “Wait,” he says, before he completely loses his train of thought.

Dean draws back and waits.

“I want this to last, Dean,” Cas says, braver than he imagined he’d be having this conversation.

“This,” Dean says, brushing Cas’s stomach, “or _us_?”

“Both,” Cas breathes, helpless. 

Cas is the one who has Dean against the door, but Cas’s knees go a little weak when Dean’s smile turns a little wicked. “Again,” he says, his hands skimming tantalizingly close to the button on Cas’s jeans, “I like the sound of that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Who even puts mistletoe up, though? 
> 
> (I'm still on a mission to up my tumblr game so if you're feeling inclined to follow me, you can do so by clicking through to my tumblr: [Click!](https://surlybobbies.tumblr.com) Thanks to the dozen or so new followers I got from my last fic - another holiday one - because now I've finally moved past that stupid number I've lingered around for the past two years. Still, I would love to welcome more of you!)
> 
> I hope you've all had a wonderful and peaceful holiday season. If you haven't, please accept my wishes that your 2020 will improve. <3


End file.
